


A Glimmer of the Day's Intent

by connyhascontrol



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Katya is a mermaid, Lesbian AU, a different kind of summer romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:34:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25592845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connyhascontrol/pseuds/connyhascontrol
Summary: In need of a change of scenery, lesbian romance novel author Trixie relocates to a little town by the sea for the summer. She planned on finishing her latest book. She didn't plan on somebody leaving her gifts on the beach, and making her question what she knows about the world and the things that live in it. It happens anyway. That is the nature of love.
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 98
Kudos: 172





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so. This one is weird. It's a fun little summer story that I started working on exactly one year ago today. Then I was busy with other things, and then the summer was over and I wasn't motivated to work on it any more. So I decided to finish it this summer instead. It's going to be four chapters, posting every Wednesday, and I'm currently working on the last one. 
> 
> Shout out to the fuck rhombus for cheering me on and always indulging my strange brain children. A special thanks to [beanie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanierose/pseuds/beanierose) for betaing this for me, and a shoutout to [Jen](https://thixietrixie.tumblr.com/) who I had the conversation about lesbian mermaids with that started all of this.
> 
> The title is from the poem [Robert Harms Paints the Surface of Little Fresh Pond by Mark Doty](https://poets.org/poem/robert-harms-paints-surface-little-fresh-pond).

Trixie carefully places the stone on her windowsill and pushes it back a smidge, so it lines up neatly with all the other little trinkets already there. It’s grey and smooth, the sand and the ocean having worn away any sharp edges. She carried it home in her fist, the cool surface becoming warm against her skin on the short walk from the beach. Trixie regards her little collection with a sense of pride that she feels she hasn’t worked for.  _ She _ hadn’t picked out any of the stones, shells, and on one occasion even a piece of blue-green sea glass that looks almost like a gummy candy. Places of honor went to the broken comb and the plastic handle of a kid’s beach toy bucket. All of them had been left for her in the spot where she has taken to spreading out her towel every morning -- little gifts from an unknown friend. 

The first morning it happened, Trixie had thought it was a coincidence, that she simply hadn’t spotted the sea shell yesterday. Thinking it was strange how it was sitting on top of the sand, washed perfectly clean, she had placed it in her glasses case to take it home later, since her shades were sitting on her nose and she had no intention of taking them off anytime soon. Then it happened again the next day, and the one after that, and now it’s been almost two weeks.

At first she had been uncomfortable knowing somebody knew she was there. The little cove is not impossible but certainly hard to reach from anywhere other than the quaint cottage Trixie is renting for the summer, and she has never seen another person around. It’s maybe a little stalkerish, but the gifts are so childlike in nature that Trixie doesn’t feel threatened. She’s charmed, and curious about how this is going to continue. 

The next morning another green, smooth piece of glass awaits her when she goes for her daily hour of sunbathing and she tucks it away in her bag with a grin. She lies there in her bikini and, as she does every day, waits for something else to happen. Nothing does. When it’s time to go back to the cottage and get to work, she decides that maybe it’s simply her turn to do something. After she has stowed her towel away in her bag, she reaches up and pulls out the pink scrunchie holding her hair in a ponytail. Trixie places it on the sand, feeling a little bit silly but giddy at the potential of... she doesn’t know what, exactly. But she’s ready for something to happen. 

She’s too excited to get any work done all day. She has a book to finish and it’s due in four weeks; her publisher is already getting nervous with the lack of status updates from her. She can’t concentrate on the plot when her thoughts keep drifting back to the beach. She gives up when she’s mixed up the names of her own characters three times, accepting that writing is not happening today. 

Instead she decides to make the trip into town on the rickety old bike she found in the shed. It had been covered in dirt and cobwebs, but after she had hosed it down, it had revealed itself to be a lovely cream coloured bike with a softly curved frame, the kind that gets sold as vintage style for hundreds and hundreds of dollars these days. It took her a while to figure out the old tire pump she found in the shed as well, but it’s a fully functional bike now. There’s even a basket, and Trixie has already used it to transport groceries and stopped along the road to pick some flowers she could decorate the cottage with.

It’s exactly the peaceful, aesthetically-pleasing life Trixie had imagined when she’d booked the place, not via Airbnb, but a website that looked to be about as old as the internet itself. They’d only advertised the house with one picture and an email address. It was the perfect place to get away from the city for a few months and offer few enough distractions to write her novel. Or so she had thought. 

Trixie wanders around the shabby little seaside town, dipping into shops clearly meant to accommodate an amount of tourists that never came. As always, the bookshop is the one she ends up spending the most time in. She leaves with just few enough books that they fit into the basket on her bike, and deliberately doesn’t think about how she’ll have to transport all of them back in her suitcase at the end of the summer. She’ll probably leave some here for the next person to find when they rent the place. She exchanges pleasantries with the elderly woman at the bakery she buys a fresh pastry at. As she pushes her bike along the sidewalk, she sinks her teeth into the buttery golden crust, leaving a trail of crumbs behind, and right away a few sparrows start fighting over them.

Already on her way back to the cottage, she stops in front of the window of a little jewelry shop. There are delicate silver necklaces with sea shell pendants and little anchor-shaped ear studs on display. Usually Trixie prefers big and loud jewelry, but she could be this person,, who wears understated little pieces along with her flowy summer dresses. And maybe a big, floppy sun hat. She needs to get a big, floppy sun hat. Maybe when she has finished her book, she’ll treat herself to a piece of the beautifully crafted jewelry as well. For now, she simply bikes home.

The scrunchie is gone the next morning, and in its place Trixie finds a little pile of rocks. She laughs when she sees it, and takes her time looking at each and every one of them attentively, before putting them away to join the collection on her windowsill later. She can’t help but look around, almost expecting to see somebody walking down the little overgrown path leading from the house, waving at her. She imagines it’s a woman, maybe in her fifties, with soft brown hair streaked with gray, hanging over her shoulder in a careless braid. She’s wearing overalls and a tank top underneath, and she looks at Trixie like she’s the only other person in the world. Or maybe it’s a little boy running across the beach with bare feet, ice cream smeared across his face, and he tries to touch Trixie’s shiny blonde hair with his sticky fingers. His mom shows up in the distance, shouting an apology, and Trixie takes him by the hand and leads him to his mother, saying it’s absolutely fine. They share a long look and she invites Trixie to dinner at their own little holiday cottage.

Trixie lets herself fall back onto her towel with a deep sigh. She should put all that creativity to good use and get to work instead of thinking up increasingly unlikely scenarios in which she meets the love of her life. She can’t help being a romantic, and this is the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to her in her 38 years on earth. 

She brought one of the books she bought the other day, determined to give the mystery person time to approach her if they so choose. After a while she gets engrossed enough in the novel to forget that she’s actually waiting for something, or someone. She only notices how much time has passed when her stomach grumbles and her phone informs her noon has come and gone. She packs away her things and heads back up the path to make herself a small lunch and finally write. She hopes her scrunchie has found a loving new home.

*

Trixie comes prepared the next day. Her bag holds her usual towel, and also an old tupperware container she found in one of the kitchen cabinets with a sandwich and a few cherry tomatoes, as well as her water bottle and her laptop. She knows bringing it to the beach is a terrible idea, but she needs to make some progress and that’s not happening at the little desk with its spindly legs, where through the window she can almost but not quite see the cove, and her thoughts keep running away from her, convincing her that’s where she should be.

Today there’s a feather waiting for her. It’s not a seagull’s and Trixie can’t identify it. She resolves to google around a little when she’s back at the cottage and has WiFi, even if it’s slow and unreliable. She spreads her towel closer to the edge of the cove, where a small cliff is rising up and where there will be shade once the sun is at its highest. 

Trixie lays a hand towel over her legs before resting her laptop on it. Her plan actually works. If something happens today, she’s not going to miss it, and until then she can work on her book without any distraction. As she had expected, but still to her disappointment, nothing happens, so Trixie takes a quick lunch break and then gets back to her book. Sitting on the ground like this for hours on end is uncomfortable, and Trixie’s butt hurts, but she finds she loves writing with her toes buried in the sand. She stretches her arms over her head, one shoulder cracking loudly. A quick check of her word count tells her she’s almost at 4000, which is about as much as she’s managed to put down the whole past week. She decides it’s enough for one day and carefully puts her laptop away.

Despite sitting in the shade, Trixie is hot, the sweat collecting on her forehead and her top lip, and she can’t wait to take a shower back at the house. Or she could actually make use of her beach getaway and take a dip in the ocean. She’s not much of a swimmer, but the sea is right there and she could just quickly cool herself off. Even though she’s completely alone, she has a short moment of worry that her bag might get stolen. She shakes it off and steps into the water. The further she wades in, the colder it feels on her overheated skin, and by the time she’s in up to her thighs, she regrets her decision. She is internally debating whether to just turn around and give up, keep wading, or simply dive right into the water. 

A shadow beneath the surface of the water catches her eye. It’s moving towards her quickly and evidently determined. If it’s a fish, it’s the biggest fish Trixie has ever seen. It has almost reached her and still she can’t make out what it is. Her curiosity is not as big as her survival instinct and Trixie starts slowly moving backwards. The thing in the water speeds up and catches up with her when she’s in just to her knees. She can’t step further back because whatever it is swims a tight circle around her. Then it floats up to the surface in front of her.

For a moment Trixie thinks it’s a person in a diving suit. She can clearly make out the regular amount of limbs you’d expect from a person, but the color is all wrong. It’s not the black neoprene of diving suits either, and Trixie's brain, which seems to be totally detached from this entire experience, helpfully informs her it’s skin. It has a green tint and it’s shiny in a way human skin isn’t. Only reluctantly does she acknowledge there’s a head attached to the creature, and it’s definitely humanoid in shape, too. It’s bald, but has pronounced cheekbones and a strong jawline. Trixie looks down into its eyes and she is reminded of the two pieces of sea glass she has resting on her windowsill. They’re not quite green and not quite blue, and they catch the light in a way that almost makes it look like they’re glowing. They stare at each other, the thing floating in the shallow water and Trixie standing above it. 

She’s trying to make up her mind about what to do when the thing opens its mouth.

“Hi!”

Trixie screams and tries to retreat out of the water, but on the uneven ground her ankle gives out underneath her, making her fall backwards into the water, all the while still screaming. She scrambles to turn around and crawl out of the water and back onto the warm sand, her scream having fizzled out somewhere in between. She lies on the beach, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her eyes squeezed shut.

She must have spent too much time in the sun. She should have gone and tried to find a big, floppy sun hat like she’d told herself. Then maybe she wouldn’t be going crazy now. When she opens her eyes again, she blinks into the bright sunlight and sits up.

The creature is sitting across from her on the sand, far enough that it’s still in about an inch of water, its legs folded up underneath it in a way that looks anatomically impossible.

“Are you okay?” it asks.

That was a normal sentence. In plain old regular English, if with an accent Trixie can’t place. Maybe it’s Russian? Everything is starting to make sense, or at least Trixie is making it make sense.

“So is this like, special effects makeup?” She waves one hand vaguely towards the woman. At least she assumes it’s a woman. She doesn’t reply, just cocks her head to the side.

“Sorry, I’m just… glad you’re a person,” Trixie finishes with a nervous laugh.

“Yes, I’m a person,” the woman replies, with her hairless brows knitted together, clearly letting Trixie know she’s being an idiot.

“Of course you are, for a moment I just thought you were some kind of, uh, sea creature.” She laughs again, this time sounding even more embarrassed.

“Yes,” the woman says again, nodding once and staring at Trixie intently with her sea glass coloured eyes.

“Haha, yeah, like, a mermaid or something.” She knows she’s being ridiculous.

“Yeah, a mermaid.” The woman’s face pulls into a big grin, revealing two rows of perfectly white and extremely pointy teeth. 

“Holy shit!” Trixie scrambles back in the sand, but the woman doesn’t move, just looks at her with curiosity. “This isn’t a costume, is it?”

“Costume?”

Her evidently limited grasp of the language supports Trixie’s theory, even though it’s insane.

“I mean do you always look like this?”

In response she makes a sound that sounds somewhat like a gurgle, but paired with her amused expression Trixie is fairly sure it’s a snort.

“Yes, of course.” She grins again. Then she scratches her belly with something that can only be described as claws. A flash of pink catches Trixie’s eye as she does and she quickly identifies it as her own scrunchie, that the  _ mermaid? woman? _ has around her wrist like a bracelet.

“Oh my god, it’s you!” Trixie feels herself lean forward. “You left me all those gifts!”

She beams at Trixie. “Yes, I picked out pretty things for you!”

At her enthusiasm, Trixie smiles a perplexed smile of her own. “Why?”

“You’re pretty, you should have pretty things,” she explains earnestly.

Trixie is sure she’s blushing. She gets plenty of people telling her she’s pretty, but nobody has ever gone to the lengths this unlikely person has. Nobody has ever said it so matter-of-factly before either. She hadn’t been trying to get anything out of Trixie, she just thought she deserved some nice things. 

“You like them?” she asks now, her eyes wide.

“I love them!” Trixie gives her a smile and has it mirrored. “You like yours, too?” She nods towards the soggy scrunchie bracelet, and the creature touches it gently with her other hand.

“It’s my favourite thing.” 

There’s a sincerity to her words that makes something flutter in Trixie’s chest. 

“I’m Trixie,” she introduces herself. It took her a while, but nobody can blame her for forgetting her manners when talking to a real-life mermaid. Or something. Trixie keeps thinking of her as ‘the creature,’ but she had certainly been right when she had asserted that she was a person.

“Trixie,” she repeats, her mouth having trouble wrapping itself around the word, so she says it a few times, until she’s happy with it. 

“What’s your name?” Trixie prompts her.

“Katya!” she says excitedly.

That’s... surprisingly normal. Trixie had expected maybe a series of gurgling sounds she couldn’t hope of ever imitating correctly. This makes it a lot easier. “Katya?” she asks to make sure and receives a nod.

“I picked it,” Katya explains with a delighted grin. “From a newspaper.”

Trixie breathes out a strange little laugh, more surprise than amusement. “You read the newspaper?”

Katya nods. “Jinkx brings them to me.”

“Oh!” Trixie knows Jinkx. That’s the woman she’s renting the house from, or it’s her grandma’s house or something. Trixie didn’t listen that closely when Jinkx showed her around. She had immediately liked Jinkx. She hadn’t seemed like she cared an awful lot what Trixie thought of her. Maybe she had just been stoned. Yes, now that Trixie thinks about it, that actually seems very likely. 

“Did she teach you to read?” As soon as the words have left her lips, Trixie regrets them. She doesn’t want to offend Katya by implying she’s stupid or uneducated. Partly because Katya is strange and fascinating and Trixie wants to keep talking to her. But also because she’s pretty sure Katya could simply grab her and drag her to the bottom of the ocean, never to be seen again, if she wanted to. 

“No, I teached myself.”

“Taught,” Trixie corrects her absentmindedly and then snaps her mouth shut. But Katya only nods.

“Taught,” she repeats.

Trixie wants to ask more questions, wants to know how Katya and Jinkx met, if she lives underwater, if she can leave the water completely, how she’s breathing right now. She doesn’t know if she’s allowed to ask all that. Up until now she’s really only looked at Katya’s extraordinary face, but now she takes in her body language. She looks attentive, but not threatening. Her shoulders are squared and it emphasizes her muscular arms. Her entire body seems to be little else than muscle. It also makes Trixie confront the fact that she’s nude. 

Katya seems absolutely unbothered by Trixie seeing her naked. Trixie, on the other hand, is extremely bothered by it. She wants to look at Katya, her strange skin that even outside of the water looks somewhat shimmery, her legs that are obviously much more flexible than a human’s. She wants to get a closer look at her hands and feet and see if she has webbing between her fingers and toes. She wants to see her stand up and see how tall she is. 

What she doesn’t want is for Katya to think she’s ogling her. If that’s a concept she even has. More likely, Trixie doesn’t want to feel like she’s ogling her. That doesn’t keep her from noticing the slight swell of her small breasts and the dark, green-tinged nipples. What takes her more by surprise, is seeing that Katya doesn’t have a belly button. It’s such a little detail in her overall appearance, but it really drives home that she isn’t human. 

Katya doesn’t seem to mind that Trixie is staring at her. She’s studying her in turn, and Trixie notices that her eyes particularly seem to stick to her hair. Trixie knows it’s beautiful, she makes sure of that. It’s shiny and thick and healthy, and Trixie had spent quite a long time this morning braiding it, and then carefully pulling it loose, enough to look casual, not enough to make it fall apart. As far as Trixie can tell, Katya is completely hairless, so it’s not surprising she would be fascinated by Trixie’s.

“So, you’re really a mermaid.” Trixie mutters it more to herself than Katya, but she catches it and grins her dangerous grin again.

“Wow, you’re slow.”

For a moment Trixie is only processing what she just heard, then she screams with laughter. She has the kind of laugh that gets you reprimanded by teachers, librarians, really anybody in a closed space. She knows that, and when she was younger she tried to tone it down. She was never very successful, and nowadays she takes pride in being as loud as she wants. 

Katya, however, is clearly startled by the noise and hunches over, making herself small and staring at Trixie with wide eyes.

“Sorry! Sorry,” Trixie quickly says. “I know, it sounds awful. It’s just how I’ve always laughed.”

“Oh.” Katya uncurls herself again. “Jinkx doesn’t laugh like that.”

“No, most people don’t.”

With a frown Katya opens her mouth and out comes a terrifying hollow shriek. It’s Trixie’s laugh, if she was the monster in a Halloween flick. After that, a happy gurgling noise, which is probably a giggle, escapes Katya.

“Okay, never do that again!” Trixie tells her, but she’s grinning herself. The absurdity of the situation hits her. She’s sitting there, joking around with a mermaid, who for some reason seems to have taken a liking to her.

They go long stretches without talking, both taking each other in, but neither moving any closer. Trixie doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t want Katya to find her less interesting, now that they’ve met. She finally breaks, feeling too awkward just sitting there and gawking.

“Can I ask you some questions?”

Katya shrugs. “Sure.” She looks at Trixie expectantly.

“Um. How do you breathe?”

“With my nose and my mouth,” she says with a frown. “Don’t you?”

“Oh, no, I definitely do, I just didn’t expect…” Trixie trails off. “And in the water?”

“The same?” Katya looks confused about where Trixie’s problem is. That’s fair, Trixie thinks. If somebody asked her how she breathes, she probably wouldn’t know how to explain that either.

“Do you need water or air?”

“Yes.” Katya looks happy to be able to give a definitive answer again.

Trixie blinks a few times. “Do you need both? Or either?”

“Oh, just one!” she quickly clarifies.

“Right.” That explains how she can just sit there on the beach. Encouraged by Katya’s reaction to her first question, she keeps going. “Can you leave the water completely?” This entire time Katya has been sitting so the ocean constantly laps at her legs.

“I can, but it’s…” she cocks her head to the side, thinking, “it feels bad. Like something is missing.” With one hand she rubs her sternum, the way Trixie does when she has heartburn.

“But to leave me my presents, you had to,” Trixie realizes, blinking in surprise. There is no way Katya could have reached the spot where Trixie spreads her towel every morning from the water, and all the little gifts had been carefully arranged, not thrown.

Katya nods once. “Yes.” When Trixie’s eyes grow wider, she adds, “I’m quick,” with another shrug.

Not only did Katya take the time to pick out something that she thought was pretty and that Trixie would like, she apparently took some physical discomfort in stride just to get it to her. Trixie doesn’t know how to react to that. It’s sweet, that’s the only way she can describe it. 

When the afternoon turns into evening, Trixie starts getting cold, even when she hugs her knees to her chest. The sand beneath her grows wet, and even though her bikini has long dried, it feels clammy against her skin. She also can’t ignore the rumbling of her stomach much longer. Still, she stays where she is. Even though it’s silly, Trixie is afraid she’ll forget everything about today the moment her feet cross the threshold to the cottage, like their meeting exists in a fragile place just left of reality. She has no doubt that Katya is real, but for some reason she’s worried Katya will forget about her once she’s out of eyesight. 

She’s not ready for today to be over. It’s the most excitement she’s had in… she can’t think of the last time adrenaline had made her pulse quicken underneath her skin like this. She regards her own excitement as if she’s floating outside her body. She’s not scared. She’s not been scared of Katya since they’ve started talking. Instead, Trixie feels wide awake, maybe for the first time in a decade.

Everybody she talked to she told the same story: that she was going to the seaside over the summer for some peace and quiet, when that was actually the last thing she wanted. She had maybe not peace but definitely quiet at home. Her New York apartment held only her and a few potted plants that she had picked for their ability to thrive with no sunlight and no attention. They’re better at it than Trixie is. 

She had come here desperate for something to happen to her. A summer romance was her go to fantasy, because she’s an incorrigible romantic, but she had been willing to accept any kind of adventure. Hell, stumbling on the cobblestone streets in town and breaking her ankle would have been  _ something _ . But this is so much more than what her mind could have come up with. 

“You should go, eat, take care of you,” Katya says the next time Trixie’s stomach makes an embarrassingly loud gurgling noise.

“Of yourself,” Trixie corrects, this time with a slight smile. With wide eyes Katya nods, apparently eager to learn. Trixie bites her lip. “Will you come back tomorrow?”

Katya gives her a bright grin, the contrast of her sharp teeth and her joyful expression still giving Trixie a bit of whiplash. “Will you?”

“Of course,” Trixie assures her.

Katya’s expression softens, and she repeats Trixie’s words back at her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Did you bring me another book?” Katya eagerly leans towards Trixie, and she snorts._
> 
> _“So far you’ve read two books and you didn’t like either of them. Are you sure reading is for you?” They’ve known each other for three days and Trixie has learned that she has nothing to fear from Katya, and that it’s_ so _much fun to tease her._
> 
> _“I like reading, I just need you to not bring me garbage.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hello good evening hi! Thank you, everyone who left comments and kudos on the first chapter. I'm so grateful you guys are coming with me on this fish woman journey. Thank you, [beanie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanierose/pseuds/beanierose), for proofreading this, and the whole fuck rhombus for bringing me so much joy.

Back at the cottage, Trixie reheats a vegetable lasagna in the microwave. She needs something hot and filling, but doesn’t have the nerve to actually cook anything. She eats it standing up by the window, looking out at the sea and hoping to spot something, some sign that things are changed. The ocean is calm, the sun slowly preparing to dip into it, no indication that things exist in it that Trixie didn’t believe in just this morning.

She struggles to fall asleep that night. It’s the same feeling she had as a child the night before her birthday. She couldn’t wait for it to come, and she’d go to bed early, trying to will herself to sleep, but she’d still end up lying awake for hours, watching the shadows from the tree in front of her window move on the ceiling. That childlike feeling seems appropriate for this situation. 

When she opens her eyes the next morning, she feels like no time has passed, but the sun has just risen, the air coming through her open window carrying in the cool breeze that always smells like salt. It’s not even six o’clock yet, but she gets up, knowing she’s too keyed up to fall back asleep or enjoy her lie-in. She showers and takes her time washing and conditioning her hair. She’s going to leave it down today, wanting Katya to see it in all its glory. During her time here she has usually just let it air-dry, but today she blow-dries it carefully over a round brush, making it voluminous and sleek with a subtle curl at the ends.

As every day, she has covered herself in a thick layer of sunscreen. If she intends to stay the whole day again, she’s going to have to reapply it, so after some consideration she decides to forgo her tinted moisturizer, but applies a coat of mascara and fills in her brows a little. Katya has seen her only barefaced before, but now Trixie wants to make an effort. She wishes she had another bikini than the pink one with the ruffles around the hips she had to buy before coming here. At home she has a collection of swimsuits that are all too small by now. She hasn’t had the opportunity to wear them in years, and she’s gained a good amount of weight between buying them and deciding to spend the summer by the sea. 

She throws on a blue sun dress. Today, she’s not just going to the beach to sunbathe for an hour. She’s meeting someone, and doing that half-naked seems inappropriate. Even if the person she’s meeting is fully naked. That has nothing to do with Trixie.

She’s too nervous to eat breakfast, so she just has a cup of tea while she makes a sandwich, takes two apples and refills her water bottle to pack in her bag. She doesn’t unpack her laptop; she’s fully aware that she’s not going to do any work today, but knowing that she _could_ soothes her conscience.

As soon as her little cove comes into view at the end of the narrow path, Trixie spots Katya. She’s floating in the shallow water near the shore, her arms idly gliding up and down on the surface, making her drift back and forth a little. Even from this distance, Trixie can clearly make out the pink scrunchie still around her wrist. Trixie doesn’t get to watch her for long, because as she gets closer Katya first turns her head in her direction and then sits up in the water with one fluid movement.

Trixie doesn’t bother with her usual spot in the shade, instead heading right for the water and Katya. They lock eyes, and Katya scoots up on the sand a little so she’s barely in the water again. 

“Good morning,” Trixie greets her as she sets down her bag and unfolds her towel.

“Hello! You’re early,” Katya remarks with a curious expression.

“I didn’t want to wait,” Trixie replies honestly. So far Katya has been nothing but up-front with her, and normally Trixie doesn’t wear her heart on her sleeve like this, but she feels like she owes that to Katya.

“Me neither.” Her gaze goes from Trixie’s face down to her body. “Are you cold?”

“Oh,” Trixie looks down at herself and the dress she put on. “I just thought I should be dressed for this.” She thinks she can feel herself blush, being found out like this.

Katya grins, her teeth as pointy as Trixie remembers, and leans back on her hands in the sand, putting her own naked torso on display. “Are you embarrassed?”

Trixie is definitely blushing now. She had thought that maybe Katya didn’t have a concept of modesty and that’s why she had no issue being naked around Trixie. Even if that’s true for Katya, she definitely understands that’s something humans have, and yet she remains unbothered.

“Yes!” Trixie finally replies, averting her gaze from Katya altogether. Her tone had been a little sharp. She knows Katya is making fun of her, and she doesn’t usually mind that, but Trixie is trying to do the right thing and be respectful, and Katya doesn’t appreciate it one bit.

“It’s very pretty. You’re very pretty.” Katya’s teasing tone has disappeared, apparently picking up on Trixie’s irritation, and when Trixie looks at her again, Katya is slumped over a little, her folded legs and arms obscuring most of her body. She’s looking up at Trixie apologetically, and Trixie feels bad for snapping at her.

“Thank you,” she replies softly, with uncertain fingers straightening the dress where it lies over her legs.

“I like your hair.”

Trixie grins. “It’s okay, you don’t have to butter me up.”

“Butter you up?” Katya asks with a frown.

“Saying nice things, so somebody will like you or do something for you,” Trixie explains, and Katya nods in understanding.

“But I do like your hair,” she argues then.

“I know,” Trixie laughs. Katya's face pulls into a gentle smile at that, and it gives Trixie courage. "Do you want to touch it?"

Katya's eyes go wide at the question, her mouth hanging open a little. Then she nods enthusiastically. Trixie considers how best to go about this and comes to the conclusion it's probably easiest if she joins Katya in the water. She sighs as she gets up and pulls her dress over her head, and as she folds it and puts it away, she can feel Katya's eyes on her. Trixie takes the few steps forward until her feet are in the water and then sits down next to Katya, who has stayed motionless the entire time. The water isn't really cold but Trixie still hisses when it soaks her bikini bottoms. 

Katya pushes up on her knees and scoots a little closer. Like this she's taller than Trixie and it puts her shining skin on display. This close it doesn't just look greenish, there are blues and purples in her hue, and Trixie realizes she has a subtle iridescence. She's distracted from that thought when Katya raises the hand with the scrunchie bracelet, slowly but deliberately, and Trixie realizes she's giving her time to change her mind and pull back. She swallows and stays very still. 

Katya is so gentle that Trixie doesn't even notice her first touch. She's carefully stroking her hair where it's resting on her shoulder and then she follows it down to the curled ends, taking them between her fingertips with their long sharp nails, rubbing slightly so the thick strands come apart and she can feel the individual hairs. Trixie watches with bated breath as Katya twists them back into a curl and carefully lets it down so it's resting against Trixie's arm again, now slightly damp.

"Beautiful." Katya's voice so close to her makes Trixie inhale sharply, and Katya looks down at her questioningly. "Okay?" she asks and Trixie just nods.

Katya's hand keeps stroking her hair, down over the ends, and then she rests her hand there on Trixie's arm. Trixie bites her lip at the slightly cool touch.

"Are you scared?" Katya looks down at her with worry, but she leaves her hand where it is.

"No." What she is is extremely touch-starved, and Katya's barely-there skin contact is too much and not enough at the same time. Trixie wants to reach out, grab Katya's arms and pull her against her own body. At the same time something inside her is yelling for her to recoil. Trixie does neither. Instead, she squeezes her eyes shut, waiting for Katya to make her next move. Her hand stays still on Trixie’s arm.

“You can touch me, too. If you want.”

Trixie sharply sucks in air and her eyes open wide. Katya is still kneeling in front of her, waiting patiently with her face full of curiosity.

Trixie clears her throat. “Okay,” she says, more to work up the nerve to actually do it than in reply to Katya’s offer. She haltingly raises a hand and extends it towards Katya, after what seems like an unlikely long time making contact with the skin of her arm. 

“Oh!” The surprised sound falls from her without Trixie having given it permission. Katya is not scaly or slimy or wet. Her smooth skin is just a little cooler than Trixie’s own. With the lack of hair it feel almost silky. “You’re cold,” she finally mutters, answering Katya’s curious look.

“You are not.” Katya grins, and Trixie can’t help but smile back. Experimentally, Trixie strokes down Katya’s arm. Her cool skin quickly warms up underneath Trixie’s.

“Is this okay?”

Katya nods quickly, and her own hand slides down Trixie’s arm a little, to the crook of her elbow. On the way there her nails graze Trixie’s skin, not scratching, just enough to make her aware of them, and something inside her clenches. 

It’s suddenly too much. Trixie has done this before -- not _this_ , obviously, not with Katya or anyone remotely like her, but the careful touching, checking in with each other, working up to something -- and it’s not what this should be, so she pulls her hand back and looks down into her lap. Katya’s hand falls away from her skin too, and she sits back on her heels.

“Okay?” Katya asks again, lowering her head to try and catch Trixie’s eyes. Trixie inhales deeply through her nose before she raises her head to nod and smile. It’s not that she’s not okay, she’s worried about how okay she’s allowed to be in this situation. Katya nods, too, apparently satisfied with the reply. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence stretching out in the small distance between them again, and this time it’s Katya who breaks it.

“Can I ask you questions today?”

Trixie laughs a little in surprise. “Sure! What do you want to know?”

“How long will you be here?” she asks right away, not having to think about it.

“Uh, at the house?” With her thumb Trixie points over her shoulder to where the cottage is visible above the cove, and Katya looks up at it and nods. “About a month.”

Katya acknowledges her answer with a hum, and it gives Trixie reason to pause.

“Do you… please don’t take this the wrong way, but do you know what a month is?”

Katya gurgles her extraordinary chuckle. “Yes, I know. From the newspapers?”

“Oh, right!” That makes sense. Still, abstracting from printed dates to the whole calendar is impressive. Going by the improvement in her language from yesterday to now, it’s obvious Katya is smart and a quick learner. It gives her an idea. “I have a few books back at the house. Would you like me to bring you something to read that’s not just, like, local news and the weather?”

Katya’s whole body surges forwards with excitement, and instinctively Trixie leans back. When Katya notices, she pulls back again, but her eyes are still wide.

“Yes, I would like that a lot!”

“Okay, I’ll bring you some tomorrow,” Trixie promises. She’s proud she that thought of that. Getting Katya so excited sends a thrill through her.

“I tried one time. Jinkx brought me a book, but it’s hard to read a whole book in the water. There were other people at the house, so I couldn’t come here,” Katya explains. It takes her a while to put the sentences together and Trixie thinks it’s the longest she’s heard Katya speak.

“Well, you’re welcome to stay here as much as you like while I’m here.”

“Thank you.” After a moment Katya adds, “I didn’t like that book Jinkx gave me.”

“No?”

“No, it was a love story. I didn’t like the man at all. I don’t understand why the woman wanted to be with him. She should have loved her friend, she was much nicer.”

Trixie laughs in surprise. “Yes, I always think that too with those stories.” She feels an unfamiliar sensation of nervousness as she says, “I write books, actually. About women.” She’s never embarrassed about being the author of lesbian romance novels. She’s spent a lot of time explaining to people _why_ she isn’t embarrassed about that, with the lack of representation of healthy romantic relationships between women in media. Yes, even though they’re all pretty raunchy. 

What she’s embarrassed about is the fact that to actually be able to live off her writing, she also has a series of crime novels under the pseudonym Brian Firkus because her publisher assured her that people were much more likely to buy gritty detective stories written by men. 

At Trixie’s words, Katya leans in close again, and this time Trixie stays where she is. “Can I read them?”

“Uhhh, I don’t have any of them here.” Katya’s excited face falls again, and Trixie quickly adds, “But I’ll think of something!”

Katya’s cool hands wraps around Trixie’s wrist for a moment and squeezes as she says, “Thank you.”

*

“Trixie!” Katya’s voice rings out over the water in the quiet morning air as soon as Trixie has started her descent down the path to the cove. “Trixie, these people are all so stupid,” Katya carries on, pointing at the book on the beach with an accusatory, clawed finger. At a safe distance to the water Trixie abandons her dress and her flip-flops and goes to sit with Katya, who is as far out of the water as she ever is.

“Are you telling me you finished it?” Trixie asks with an astonished look at the book. She left it with Katya last night before she had to return to the cottage for the night.

“Yes, I needed to. It was obvious who committed the murder and they _didn’t get it._ ” She sounds outraged, her brow pulled together, her shoulders squared. Trixie has to fight hard to keep her smile in check.

“Don’t tell me who did it, I haven’t read it yet.”

“You shouldn’t! It’s a waste of time,” Katya huffs, her chest rising and falling.

“You still finished it, can’t have been that bad.”

“Did you bring me another book?” Katya eagerly leans towards Trixie, and she snorts.

“So far you’ve read two books and you didn’t like either of them. Are you sure reading is for you?” They’ve known each other for three days and Trixie has learned that she has nothing to fear from Katya, and that it’s _so_ much fun to tease her.

“I like reading, I just need you to not bring me garbage.”

Trixie laughs, and Katya grins at her. She likes poking back, and Trixie finds it thrilling. Of course the person she immediately clicks with isn’t even human. Of course she had to look for another species to find someone who she can have interesting conversations with. She’s sure all of her exes would snort and say that sounds about right. 

But Katya is smart. The more they talk, the more fluid her English gets, her strange accent starting to disappear, and Trixie is a little sad to see it go. Yesterday, Katya had told her how she spends most of her time observing humans. The pier offers a fascinating tableau of locals going about their days and tourists who have come with expectations the town can’t fulfill. Gleefully, she tells Trixie about a guy getting very clearly rejected by the girl he was on a date with. Apparently she has also seen a few dates go right.

“I understand the sex part,” she had told Trixie very matter-of-factly. “But why would you want to have it with a man?” She looked at Trixie, obviously waiting for an answer, and Trixie had shrugged and looked down at the sand she’d been drawing lazy patterns in with her fingertips.

“I don’t know. I don’t. With a man, I mean,” she told the ground, and Katya had hummed pensively.

Now, Katya insists, “I want to read your books. I’m sure I’ll like those,” and Trixie smiles.

“I asked my publisher to send me copies of all my books here. They should arrive in a few days.” She had made up some drivel about _needing to find her voice again_ , that’s why she needed copies of all her novels. She’d gotten an email back, saying that surely the crime series was unnecessary, but Trixie insisted she needed it to experience the full emotional range of her writing. Her publisher agreed on the condition that she sent them the draft of the first half of the book by tomorrow. She already got a good start, but she still has a long night ahead of her if she wants to actually have half a book by then. It’s worth Katya’s big, joyful smile that Trixie doesn’t even find unsettling anymore, despite the teeth. 

“Until they get here, you can try this.” Trixie pulls her bag over the sand and into her lap to dig out the novel she started a few days ago and already remembers nothing of anymore. She doesn’t blame the book; her thoughts have been preoccupied.

As Katya stretches out to take the book, she winces slightly. 

“What’s wrong?” Trixie asks with a frown, and Katya gurgles something unintelligible. “What?”

“I was in the sun for too long,” she repeats more clearly. “I had to get out of the water so I wouldn’t ruin the book,” she explains sheepishly.

“You’ve…” Trixie blinks a few times. “You’ve got a sunburn. I didn’t think you could get that.” She regards Katya’s dark skin that really does look very dry, almost cracked. 

Five minutes later, Trixie is back from the house with a bottle of aloe gel she’d had to buy in town a few days after she arrived, when she hadn’t taken sunscreen all that seriously at first and immediately paid the price. To her embarrassment, Katya doesn’t take the bottle but instead flops down on her front in the shallow water by Trixie’s feet.

She turns over long enough to ask “Would you?” and then plants her face in the ocean again. 

“Uhm. Right. Sure.” She’s going to rub lotion onto Katya’s skin. Which she can definitely do; she’s helping a friend. Or something like that. They get along, but she still hadn’t thought Katya would trust her like this. As far as Trixie knows, she doesn’t have any human friends other than Jinkx and her, and something tells her she wouldn’t let Jinkx do this.

On her knees, Trixie scoots closer to Katya’s floating form. The aloe gel feels cool in the palm of her hand. When she gently lays her hand on Katya’s back, she expects her to twitch or maybe to dive under the surface, but Katya stays still, only moved by the gentle waves that are lapping at Trixie’s thighs. 

With barely any pressure, Trixie keeps spreading the soothing lotion on Katya’s skin, from her shoulders downwards. Over the last days she’d gotten used to Katya’s perpetual nudity. It was fairly easy to ignore when they were talking and she could focus on Katya’s face. She’s fascinating enough that Trixie truly hasn’t been thinking about her body much. But as she runs her hand down Katya’s spine, clearly feeling every individual vertebra, she has to face the reality of it leading to Katya’s bare ass. Which happens to be a very nice, very toned ass. 

Trixie tears her eyes away, and instead focuses on rubbing the lotion into Katya’s shoulders, where the skin looks dryest. When her fingers slide over the back of Katya’s neck, bubbles start rising from underneath Katya’s face, and Trixie pulls her hands back as if they’d been burned.

“Are you okay?” she asks when Katya raises her head.

“Yes. Why did you stop? That was nice.” Her face is pulled into a frown and Trixie laughs a little at the realization that Katya had probably just sighed with her face in the water.

“I’m done.” At least with all the parts of Katya she trusts herself to touch. “Does it feel better?”

Katya pulls herself into a sitting position, experimentally rolls her shoulders, and then hums. “Yes, much better.”

“Good,” Trixie says with a nod. “I’ll leave my sunscreen here so it doesn’t get that bad again.”

“Thank you.” Katya’s voice is soft as she says it, and Trixie nods again to hide the fact that she can feel herself blushing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"It's the best book I’ve ever read.”_
> 
> _“You’ve read like, ten books,” Trixie points out with raised brows._
> 
> _“Yes, and yours is my favorite.”_
> 
> _"Okay," Trixie simply states at Katya's insistent tone. After a moment of silence, she quietly adds, "Thank you." She lies back and stretches out her legs. They’re almost touching Katya’s. "Tell me what you like about it."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, who has left comments and kudos on this fic, it really means so much to me! As always, [beanie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanierose/pseuds/beanierose) is an angel and helped me whip this into shape, thank you! I'm excited about this chapter, I hope you like it as much as I do. Now I better go and actually finish that last chapter. See you next week!

The cottage is so much in the middle of nowhere that no mail gets delivered there. Trixie only finds that out when she gets a text from Jinkx, informing her she’s got a package that Trixie should come and pick up. 

Katya protests a little when Trixie leaves her fairly early in the day, but she quiets down when Trixie tells her she has to bike into town to pick up the books her publisher sent. She assures Katya she'll come back to the beach right away, so she can finally get the promised reading material.

She’s already burned through all the paperbacks Trixie bought at the local bookshop only a week ago, and she had only read those reluctantly since they weren’t Trixie’s. Trixie doesn’t know if Katya reads at superhuman speed or if she has simply stopped doing anything other than reading when Trixie goes back to the cottage at night.

It’s not far to Jinkx’s place. The town mostly consists of the main road that all the houses stick to without branching out much, so Trixie just needs to follow the road until she reaches the house with the yellow front door that Jinkx told her to look out for instead of giving her an actual address. A low wall separates the house from the street, and Trixie leans the bike against it. 

At first, Trixie’s knocking goes unanswered, but then somebody calls something unintelligible from somewhere inside, and Trixie takes it as a sign to wait. Eventually steps approach and Jinkx pulls the door open. She’s in an apron and has an oven mitt clutched in one hand.

“Sorry, the apple crumble was perfectly done. I couldn’t leave it in a minute longer. Come in!” 

She turns and hurries back into the house, leaving Trixie to close the door and follow her. She walks down a narrow hallway made even smaller by the numerous shelves and end tables full of clutter. Trixie knows they’re walking towards the kitchen by the rich smell of baked apple in the air that gets heavier with every step. It’s a cozy kitchen with terracotta tiles, light wood counters, a bench and table tucked into one corner. On the table sits a package.

“I would have brought it over myself, but it’s heavy,” Jinkx offers with curiosity in her voice.

“Oh no, please, there’s no need to go to all that trouble. I can pick up my own stuff.” After a beat Trixie adds, “It’s just a few books,” and Jinkx nods, her curiosity satisfied. 

“Right, how’s the novel coming along?”

They’d made smalltalk when Jinkx had shown Trixie the cottage. It had included a slightly awkward conversation where Jinkx had asked if Trixie had written anything she’d know. It left Trixie having to explain that she probably didn’t, unless she was into lesbian romance novels. 

“I’d rather go to the beach than sit inside with my laptop. So. Not great,” Trixie explains with a shrug. She doesn’t explain  _ why _ she likes going to the beach, even though Jinkx is the only other person who knows Katya exists, as far as Trixie is aware. 

Her time with Katya lives in that cove, far away from things like picking up your mail and chatting with the neighbors. Trixie doesn’t want it to become a casual, ordinary thing. Not that Katya ever could be, but Trixie is used to holding things close to her chest. This is too special to break that habit now.

“So, is this inspiration?” Jinkx asks with a nod to the package of books, and Trixie hums in reply, letting her interpret it however she wants. For a moment Jinkx just looks at her, and then she smiles.

“Would you like to stay for some apple crumble?”

It takes Trixie by surprise. It’s been so long since she’s spent a significant amount of time in the countryside that she’s not used to this kind of hospitality anymore. But she grew up with it, and she can tell politeness apart from a genuine offer. There’s nothing but sincerity in Jinkx’s voice. The crumble is sitting on the stovetop, filling the kitchen with a heavenly smell, its golden crust enticing. Through the window, she can see the summer sun beating down on the garden. It’s not exactly crumble weather, but Trixie isn’t great at feeding herself. In the city she can just order in whatever she likes, but out here she’s struggled a little with making actual meals. That apple crumble is the best thing she’s seen in weeks.

“Sure. Thanks.”

Jinkx prepares two plates with crumble, and adds vanilla ice cream from a large tub she struggles to get back in the freezer before setting them down on the kitchen table. 

“Oh my God, that’s so good,” Trixie huffs once she’s swallowed the first, still very hot, bite. But Jinkx doesn’t seem satisfied; she’s humming and the corners of her mouth pull down.

“It’s never as good as my grandma’s was, even though it’s her recipe. She must have been a witch,” she mutters, probably more to herself than to Trixie. With the long red hair and the apron she looks pretty witchy herself. As she thinks that, Trixie inhales sharply through her nose and sits up straight.  _ Are _ there witches? Mermaids exist, so why not magic? Jinkx looks at her with confusion, but when she asks if something’s wrong, Trixie waves the question away. One mythical creature at a time.

“Well, I never tried your grandmother’s, but I can assure you this is the best crumble I’ve ever had,” she deflects, and Jinkx thanks her with a toothy smile. One of her front teeth has a corner missing. 

“How are you enjoying your time here?” Jinkx asks politely after a moment of awkward silence. 

“It’s so nice to have some space and air. You don’t fully realize until you get out of the city what’s missing there.”

Jinkx hums and then asks, “You’re not originally from New York, right?”

“No, I’m from Wisconsin. I went to college in New York and then just stayed,” Trixie explains, and shrugs. There hadn’t been a reason to go back home. Back then, there had been a girlfriend and job prospects that were worth staying for. The girlfriend is long gone, and she could write from anywhere, but there never had been another place she actually wanted to make her home.

“I figured you were a country girl,” Jinkx says with another smile. “You haven’t completely lost the accent.”

Trixie shrugs again. It used to bother her, but she doesn’t have enough people around her to make fun of it anymore. She  _ has _ friends, most of them other writers. But they don’t have the kind of relationships where you harmlessly poke fun at each other. All her contacts are professional and grown-up enough to not call her a bumpkin.

“I moved here from Seattle a few years ago,” Jinkx tells her around a mouthful of crumble. “Living this far out took some getting used to, but now I’d never go back to the city.”

Trixie would rather not think about going back to the city. “Why did you come here?” she asks, and then quickly adds, “If that’s not too personal.”

Jinkx waves her concern away with a careless gesture of her hand. “No, no, don’t worry. My aunt’s not getting any younger, and we didn’t want her to be alone. I’m the only one of my relatives who doesn’t have a family, so it was easiest for me to move. I sold most of my stuff, quit my job, and came out here.” She says it with the ease with which other people announce they’re going out to get some groceries, and Trixie can’t help but snort softly.

“So what do you do now?”

“I make ceramics and sell them online,” Jinkx says, her voice getting broader just as her smile does, and then a little more quietly she adds, “And I work part-time at the Walgreens one town over.” She looks nervous at that and it makes her look younger. It’s only then that Trixie realizes she’s probably in her mid to late twenties. Her vintage clothes age her. Immediately, Trixie’s maternal instinct kicks in and she smiles.

“I used to do hair and makeup when I couldn’t support myself just with writing,” she tells Jinkx to let her know there’s no shame in having a mundane job when you’re an artist. “What kind of ceramics?”

“Oh, you know, bowls, vases, sculptures. Anything that sells on Etsy.”

“Can I see?”

Jinkx’s eyes widen in surprise at Trixie’s question. “Of course!” 

Trixie had expected her to maybe pull up her online shop on her phone, but she pushes herself up from the bench, wiping her hands on the apron, and leaves the kitchen. Trixie quickly stuffs another bite of too hot crumble and melting ice cream into her mouth, and then follows her. They make their way through the hallway again, but take a right before the front door into the small but cozy living room. It leads into a sunroom that clearly functions as Jinkx’s studio. Several of the windows are blocked by tall shelves full of ceramics. Through the remaining windows, Trixie looks out onto a canopied patio where a potter’s wheel sits.

“These are beautiful,” she tells Jinkx when she steps closer to the shelves, taking in the stacks of bowls, glazed in white and blue. She’s seen things like these in boutiques in the city, and she had quickly put them down again when she spotted the price tag. Trixie turns around to ask Jinkx how much they are, but before she can open her mouth, she spots another shelf that was hidden by the door when she came in. 

It’s full of mermaid sculptures, and Trixie can’t help but laugh. They’re the traditional mermaids with fishtails, shell bras and long hair, lounging on rocks, presumably to talk to their fun cartoon fish friends. Or to lure men to their watery deaths. Either works.

Jinkx’s voice takes on a mysterious tone as she explains, “Did you know that there have been mermaids in these waters for as long as there have been people? My aunt used to tell me about them when I was little. When I grew up, I stopped believing in them, but then last year,” her voice lowers to an insistent whisper, “I saw her. Her golden hair was glistening in the sun, she waved to me from the water, and I found myself compelled to walk right into the ocean.”

Trixie snorts. “Right.”

Jinkx shrugs and grins. “Obviously not, but middle-aged white women eat that nonsense up.”

Trixie just hums in reply, not wanting to give away that she knows Jinkx is lying to her. She’s glad she is. Trixie wouldn’t want her to run around telling everybody about Katya. Trixie is still looking at the figurines, her gaze getting stuck on one at the back on the top shelf. Her features are sharper than all the other round-cheeked mermaids, and her mouth is painted blood red. Her blonde hair hangs down over her pointy shoulders, obscuring her naked torso. She looks a little sinister and definitely familiar. Trixie has to get on tiptoes to carefully pick her up and get a closer look at her face. Two sea glass eyes look back at her. Jinkx did a good job of capturing her likeness without making it obviously her.

Trixie blinks a few times and then looks at Jinkx. “I’d like to buy this.”

Jinkx stares at the mermaid in Trixie’s hands for a moment before she says, “I’ve got a few others that I think might be more your style.” She bends down to grab another one that’s got a light blue tail, a bright pink shell bra, and a fuller figure than many of the others. Trixie immediately realizes that Jinkx picked the one that looks most like her.

“I want this one,” she says firmly, lifting the mermaid she’s holding a little and staring right at Jinkx, who seems to think for a moment.

“It’s the first one I made, she’s not exactly my finest--”

“I want her,” Trixie interrupts her.

Jinkx’s gaze becomes calculating, searching for something on Trixie’s face. 

“You’ve seen her, haven’t you?”

“No, I-- I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Trixie quickly replies, but Jinkx openly grins at her. 

“You’ve seen her. I know she likes to spend time in the cove. I’m surprised she showed herself to you. She usually thinks humans are dumb and ugly.”

“No, just men.” The words are out of Trixie’s mouth before she can stop them, and she silently curses her unstoppable need to be right at all times.

Jinkx cackles at her reply. “So you haven’t just seen her, you’ve _ met _ her.” Trixie says nothing. “How did that come about?"

Trixie shrugs. She’s not about to tell Jinkx about all the little gifts that Katya left her.

“One day she just poked her head out of the water and said hi.”

Jinkx stops laughing, looking astonished. “She just talked to you.”

“Yes.”

Jinkx turns and makes her way back to the kitchen. Trixie follows her, still with the Katya figurine in hand. Without a word, Jinkx sits back down at the table and resumes eating her crumble, spooning up the ice cream that’s completely melted by now. Trixie joins her after carefully setting down the statue, for a lack of anything better to do.

“I didn’t even know she could speak for months,” Jinkx finally breaks the silence. “I would talk to her and it was obvious she understood, but she never replied. Granted, when she finally did, her vocabulary was very limited and her pronunciation was interesting, but I’m sure she could have talked the whole time.”

“Why didn’t she?” Trixie asks with a frown, pushing crumbs back and forth on her plate with the dessert spoon.

“I don’t know for sure, but I think it took her a while to decide I was worth the effort.”

Trixie snorts softly. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“So,” Jinkx pops another bite into her mouth and then asks around it, “what made you worth the effort right away?”

Trixie schools her face into a blank stare. “My huge tits.”

Across from her, Jinkx howls with laughter, choking a little on the rest of her crumble and spewing a few crumbs over the table.

“Yeah, she  _ would _ like you.”

Trixie smiles and puts another spoonful of crumble into her mouth, chewing cheerfully. 

Jinkx walks her out a little later, making sure the package of books is safely stowed in the basket of what Trixie learns is the old bike of JInkx’s aunt. She has wrapped the little Katya statue in several layers of newspaper and put her in a tote bag she tells Trixie she can return whenever. Only then does Trixie realize she came straight from the beach and didn’t bother picking up her wallet. Jinkx waves away her promise of coming back with the money for it, telling Trixie it’s a gift from one secret keeper to another.

*

Katya doesn’t look up from the book she’s holding when Trixie gets to the beach. She’s lounging in the little alcove they have created out of a few large pieces of driftwood that Katya dragged to the shore and several towels Trixie found at the cottage draped over them. It creates enough shade for them both to comfortably sit there. But Katya is sprawled out on her back, taking up all the space for herself, holding the book above her face. When Trixie gets close, she begins to read out loud.

“ _ Allison has never been touched like this. Carrie’s hands are warm and sure on her skin, never trembling as they move down her body. _ ”

“Oh my God, stop!” Trixie shrieks as soon as she realizes what Katya is doing.

“ _ Her fingers press into the spot Allison can never quite reach herself, making her moan _ .”

“Shut up! Shut  _ up _ !” Trixie bag has hit the sand with a  _ thump _ while she tries to snatch the book out of Katya’s grasp. But she quickly rolls onto her front with a happy gurgle, shielding the paperback with her body. Trixie can’t think of anything other than climbing on top of Katya to get the book, and she’s certainly not doing that. Not with Katya being as naked as she always is. She’s gotten to a point where she hardly thinks about it, but with Katya reading  _ that _ to her, Trixie is suddenly very aware of her nudity.

“ _ She cries out when Carrie’s tongue licks into her-- _ ”

“I’m leaving. I didn’t give you my books so you could mock me.” With a huff Trixie picks up her bag and slings it over her shoulder, but before she can take one step towards the cottage, Katya’s cool fingers wrap around her ankle, holding her back with a strength that makes Trixie’s heart skip a beat.

“No, Trixie, please don’t go,” she pleads, and Trixie’s resolve melts away. She doesn’t say anything, only tugs a little to get her ankle free. Katya immediately lets go and Trixie feels the absence of her touch. 

“Don’t go, I didn’t mean to make fun of you.” Katya has rolled over again, like a dog, and she stares up at Trixie with big eyes. “I love your book. Thank you for letting me see.”

Trixie doesn't know if it's just a slightly clunky turn of phrase or if Katya is saying she can  _ see _ Trixie. So she just hums and rolls her eyes. 

“Yes, fine, don’t overdo it.” She sits down next to Katya, her knees pulled up to her chest, the ocean playing around her toes.

“I’m not! It's the best book I’ve ever read.”

“You’ve read like, ten books,” Trixie points out with raised brows.

“Yes, and yours is my favorite.”

"Okay," Trixie simply states at Katya's insistent tone. After a moment of silence, she quietly adds, "Thank you." She lies back and stretches out her legs. They’re almost touching Katya’s. "Tell me what you like about it."

Katya laughs and grabs Trixie's arm, squeezing it enough that her long nails press lightly into Trixie's skin.

She only brought the novels over yesterday, after her chat with Jinkx. Unbeknownst to Katya, a small statue of her now sits on Trixie's nightstand. She had stared at it bleary-eyed for a few moments in the early hours of the morning when she'd finally written enough to justify going to sleep. The short night sits deep in her bones, and she blinks a few times to keep her dry eyes from closing.

"I like that I know why Allison acts the way she does. She's not stupid, she's just careful with her heart," Katya starts, to Trixie's surprise. She hadn't expected her to actually tell her what she likes about the book. "I like that it's funny, but doesn't try to be funny. Just like you."

Trixie hums in acknowledgment. She actually tries very hard to be funny, especially around Katya, but she doesn't need to know that.

"I like that it doesn't hide the sex," Katya carries on very seriously.

Trixie rolls her eyes. "Please stop."

Katya scrambles up into a sitting position and stares down at Trixie with wide eyes. "I mean it! There's no shame in it, and there shouldn't be. Humans are so weird about sex, trying to hide what they want all the time. This book doesn't. There's nothing bad about wanting another woman." She says it quietly but with certainty, and Trixie can feel herself blush, not willing to examine why.

"I know that." She jabs her index finger into the cover of the book. "I wrote it."

Katya lies down next to her again, but turns onto her side, facing Trixie. "I know."

Trixie stays silent, all her focus taken up by keeping herself from squirming.

"I do like love stories," Katya says, intently looking at Trixie. "I just needed to find the right one.”

“I’ve always known you’re a romantic.” Katya gives a questioning hum, and Trixie explains, “With all the gifts you've given me.”

Katya grins and the skin around her eyes crinkles with it. She looks so goofy, even with her sharp teeth. Despite the shade, the heat presses heavily onto Trixie, and she can feel her eyes drifting shut.

"Hey, what happened?" she murmurs.

"Hm?"

"Why don't I get gifts anymore?" She can hear her own words slurring together.

"You've got me now, I thought that was enough."

Katya's cheerfully gurgling voice is the last thing she hears before she drifts off, barely registering the cool touch, the weight on her shoulder, and what she thinks might be a puff of breath against her skin.

It's gone by the time she wakes up. Instead, there's a pile of sea shells by her feet, and Trixie laughs.

"Is that enough?" Katya shouts from the water, only her head sticking out above the gentle waves.

"For now," Trixie calls back and scoops the shells up with both hands, looking through the heap and finally placing them in her bag, so that they can join the rest back at the cottage later. 

Katya has swum close again, her fingers gliding through the water near the surface and splashing Trixie’s legs. She pulls them close to her chest to escape the cold water, and Katya splashes harder.

“Stop!” Trixie screeches through a barely held back grin. Katya does, but she moves even closer, her torso on the sand. She flicks one finger in Trixie’s direction, and a single drop of water comes loose from her nail and lands on Trixie’s chest. She inhales sharply.

“Why do you never come into the water? I’ve seen humans swim, or what you call swimming.” Katya’s intense sea glass eyes are fixed on Trixie’s face, and she can feel it getting hot again.

At first, she only rolls her eyes as she tries to come up with a way to deflect. Then she tells herself there’s no point. “I’m afraid of the ocean,” Trixie admits in a small voice.

Katya gurgles a laugh. “Why?”

“Because,” Trixie reaches out a finger and pokes Katya in the arm, “you never know what’s lurking down there!”

“I know exactly what’s lurking down there.  _ I _ am,” Katya simply states. “Alright, we’re going swimming.” When Trixie opens her mouth to protest, she adds with a grin, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“No.”

Katya does an annoyingly good impression of Trixie rolling her eyes, then her expression becomes sincere again.

“You don’t have to go in if you don’t want. But it’s going to be okay, I promise.” 

With a sigh Trixie pushes herself up. “Fine.”

She’s still wearing a sundress on top of her bikini, and she quickly pulls it over her head, ignoring how Katya watches her. The first few steps are easy. When she’s in to her knees, Katya stands in one fluid motion and grabs Trixie’s hand. 

“We’ll do it together.”

It’s not necessary, Trixie isn’t  _ that _ afraid of the ocean, but she’s not going to tell Katya that. Katya doesn’t pull, just takes every step with Trixie. She hisses when the cold water reaches her hips, and she can tell how Katya is trying to hide a smile. Trixie is quick with the last few steps until she’s in up to her shoulders, to get it over with. Reluctantly she lets go of Katya’s hand, knowing she needs it to swim. 

As soon as she gives Katya freedom, she slips under the surface, swimming a few excited circles around Trixie. Katya moves differently when she’s fully submerged and has the space to stretch her limbs. Her body weaves with the gentle current like she’s a liquid herself, and Trixie finds herself staring, transfixed. Until Katya reemerges right in front of her face, her grin wide.

“Are you going to swim or do you just plan on standing there?” In response, Trixie splashes her right in the face, and Katya shrieks with joy. “No, don’t be mad! You’re doing great.”

“Uh-huh.” Trixie raises her brows, trying to not let Katya know how nice that was to hear. She pushes herself off the ocean floor, sand slipping beneath her toes, and swims out further. Katya glides through the water next to her. What’s a workout for Trixie is clearly just floundering about for her, and Trixie tries to force her breath to become calmer to not give her effort away. 

They’re swimming silently for a while, Trixie turning parallel to the coast when she can no longer see the bottom, and Katya floats by her side. It  _ is _ kind of nice, letting herself be carried by the waves, and feeling pleasantly cool for the first time in days. 

She doesn’t get to voice that thought because something icy climbs up her leg, and she shrieks. Trixie forgets to move her arms and sinks in to her nose, water filling her mouth as she gasps for air, She desperately tries to push herself up again, but her movement is too frantic. Before she can slip under, a strong arm slings around her waist and pulls her up again. She coughs when she breaches the surface and gulps for air.

“You’re okay! You’re okay.” Katya has pulled her close, and she’s carrying both of them with ease. With her voice low and soothing she says, “It was just a current.” 

Trixie has stopped thrashing in panic and slung her arms around Katya’s neck, letting herself be carried. If she wasn’t still rattled, she’d be embarrassed. Instead, she buries her face in Katya’s neck and waits for her heart to stop racing in her chest. Katya is stroking her back, and there’s a deep rumbling sound coming from her that’s almost a purr. Trixie can feel it vibrating in her own body.

“I’m okay,” Trixie says close to Katya’s skin.

“I know.” She doesn’t stop stroking Trixie’s back, nor does she let go. They’re still pressed closely together, Katya’s gentle movement keeping their heads above the surface. She lets herself fall backwards a little, pulling Trixie half on top of her, and starts to swim backwards towards the shore with just her legs. Even like this, Katya is faster than Trixie would be by herself. Katya stops when they can both reach the bottom again. Trixie digs her toes into the sand, grounding herself. Katya is no longer holding her upright, but she still has one arm around Trixie’s waist. 

"Thank you," Trixie murmurs, barely audible over the small waves splashing against their bodies. "I would have been fine by myself, but it's nice getting saved anyway."

Katya just smiles and nods. They stand facing each other in the water silently. Then, Katya closes the distance between them.

It doesn't take Trixie by surprise; she knew that that's where they were headed. But it's not quite like any other kiss she's ever had. Katya's lips are smooth and cool on Trixie's, staying closed and still against her. Trixie gently swipes her tongue over Katya's lips, and she hums, relaxing against Trixie. 

When Trixie pulls back, Katya still has her eyes closed. She slowly blinks with a serene expression on her face, and Trixie can’t help but cup her cheek with one hand. She leans into it like a cat. 

“So that’s kissing,” Katya remarks quietly with a smile. Trixie’s jaw drops, and Katya shrugs before she shows off her sharp teeth in a grimace. “We don’t do… mouth stuff.” She looks towards their little makeshift canopy where Trixie’s book still lies in the sand. “But I can learn,” she adds with a grin, and then sticks her tongue out, making grunting noises that Trixie should find gross but doesn’t. Instead she notes how long Katya’s tongue is.

With a shriek, Trixie places both hands on Katya’s shoulders and pushes her down. She sinks under the surface willingly with a joyful gurgle.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She opens her eyes, and the sky is endless and deep blue above her. As Trixie looks down, it melts into the ocean, all the twin stars and the bright moon on its surface moving with the current. Katya fits into all of it seamlessly, and in this moment Trixie feels like she does too, in a way she can’t remember ever feeling before. It feels like coming home. It feels like finding faith._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, this is it! I've worked on this fic for ages, even if nearly nobody knew about it for most of that time, and it's very weird to say goodbye now. Thank you, everyone who decided to trust me and come on this journey with me, I really appreciate it so much. A big thank you as always to [beanie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanierose/pseuds/beanierose), who has her hands full wrangling commas and tenses for me and is an all-around fantastic person I'm blessed to call my friend. Thanks to the fuck rhombus who always let me be as weird as I want to be. And thank you, [mattepinkallshades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattepinkallshades/pseuds/mattepinkallshades). You know what for. You know.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this chapter, I'll see you around for the next fic!

Trixie’s days blend together in a haze of sunshine and cool skin against hers. They’ve gotten more comfortable with kissing, and Katya can’t seem to get enough. When Katya’s lips aren’t on Trixie’s mouth, they’re on her shoulders, her hair, her fingers. They take turns refreshing each other’s sunscreen. Both their hands have been lingering on soft curves, gently cupping the arch of hip bones under sun-warm skin, drawing lines with their fingertips from knees to ankles. It’s all they’ve done.

During the night, Katya reads and Trixie writes, gripped by new motivation. Neither of them gets much sleep, but it doesn’t seem to bother Katya. Trixie makes up for it by napping on the beach, protected from the midday heat by Katya’s body draped over her. 

It’s heaven.

Their blissful little universe gets disturbed one day when the afternoon is turning into evening, the sun no longer beating down mercilessly on the beach but offering warm comfort. A voice calls out to them. Trixie groans and unsticks herself from Katya to sit up and see what’s going on.

Jinkx is walking down the path from the cottage with a basket over her arm, and she gives them a friendly wave. Neither of them returns it, they just wait for her to reach them. 

“Hello, it’s nice to see you both!” She sets down her basket and sits in the sand on Trixie’s other side. “I had some leftover cake that I didn’t want to go to waste. There was no answer when I knocked at the cottage, so I came down to check if you’re here,” Jinkx explains casually.

Trixie only hums. She’s pretty sure the cake is just an excuse to come over and, what? Get the scoop on Katya and her? She realizes too late they’re still skin to skin, even though Trixie is sitting and Katya has rolled over on her stomach, making herself smaller. Trixie realizes she’s covering herself up.

“Isn’t this beautiful?” Jinkx looks out over the ocean. “I haven’t really come to the beach in ages. You know how it is; when it’s there every day, you take it for granted.” She sighs quietly, and after a moment snaps upright. “Anyway, cake!” She produces a tupperware container out of her basket and pops the lid open. Trixie fishes out one piece of sheet cake, immediately getting the thick, white frosting on her fingers. Jinkx holds it out to Katya, but she only pulls a face, so Jinkx shrugs and takes a piece for herself.

“Right, I forgot. You don’t eat.”

Katya  _ does _ eat, Trixie knows. She just doesn’t like it, so she gets it over with in the early hours of the morning before Trixie comes down to the beach. However, she always makes sure that Trixie has lunch and sends her home when it’s time for dinner.

Trixie sinks her teeth into the soft, spongy cake and hums at the pleasantly fresh taste of lemon. She doesn’t appreciate the intrusion, but it  _ is _ good cake.

“How’s your book doing?” Jinkx asks around the bite she’s chewing on.

“Really good, actually. The first draft is nearly ready to go.” The second half of the book has been pouring out of her every night when she sits down to write in a way she hasn’t experienced in a long time. It’s restored a lot of Trixie’s faith in herself.

“Oh, great,” Jinkx states cheerfully. “It’s a good thing, too; you don’t have much time left out here.” Her carelessness hits almost harder than what she’s saying.

Trixie has been pushing away the thought that she’s supposed to be back in the city in a week, leaving the cottage and this town behind. Katya hasn’t asked about it again, but Trixie knows she’s aware of her impending absence.

Jinkx takes in her silence with a frown. “You can always come back next summer,” she adds.

“Right.” Trixie stares down at the sand and nods. “Next summer.”

A gentle touch at her thigh makes her turn her head towards Katya. She rests her hand against Trixie’s skin and gives her a small smile. It’s enough to remind her she’s not in this alone.

Jinkx leans forward so she can address Katya. “Did she show you the statue she got?” 

Katya looks up at Trixie and shakes her head with a frown.

“She picked the one that I modelled after you,” Jinkx adds with a sly smile and then takes another bite, and Katya's mouth drops open.

Trixie rolls her eyes to try and mask the fact that she’s blushing. She doesn’t even really know why; Katya knows that she likes her.

“Were you just never going to tell me?” Katya’s face is equally astounded and amused.

“No, I wasn’t.” Trixie shrugs. Then she sees Jinkx’s face, frozen in an expression of shock. “Everything alright?”

“You can talk.” Jinkx stretches her arm out, one finger pointing at Katya’s face accusingly.

“Yes, we have talked before.” Katya’s tone is the same one she used when she first spoke to Trixie, not even trying to hide that she thought Trixie was an idiot.

“Yes, but-- but not like this!”

Katya shrugs. “I didn’t have a reason to learn before.” Where Jinkx can’t see, Katya strokes the knuckle of one finger along Trixie’s thigh.

“Huh.” JInkx takes another bite of her cake and chews pensively. Once she’s swallowed she gives Trixie an obvious once-over. “I guess you were right.”

“About what?”

“That your tits made you worth the effort.”

Next to Trixie, Katya shrieks with joy, and her nails dig in just a little where she’s gripped Trixie’s knee. 

“Is that what you think of me?”

“Am I wrong?” Trixie raises her brows. She tries and fails to hold back her smile. Katya just gurgles happily and squeezes Trixie’s knee twice.

“Oh, you guys are cute,” Jinkx interrupts their exchange, grinning broadly. 

Trixie almost asks if there’s anything else she wants. She has no right to ask Jinkx to leave, but being with Katya around somebody else makes her oddly self-conscious. She’s not sure if she’s trying to protect Katya or herself, maybe both. It’s silly; Jinkx is no danger to them. Katya trusts her, so Trixie should too.

It’s evening by the time Jinkx grabs her basket and gets ready to leave, and she remarks how it’s getting chilly. It’s not. It was sweltering all day, and Trixie is glad for the breeze coming from the ocean and the cool sand underneath her.

“You should get back to the house, or you’ll catch a cold, sitting in the water like that,” Jinkx remarks, and Trixie snorts softly. It reminds her of her mother, who to this day still insists Trixie take a jacket wherever she goes, no matter how hot it is.

“I’m fine.” As she says it, her stomach rumbles, and Katya gently touches her thigh again.

“Go home. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promises quietly. 

It leaves Trixie no choice but to begrudgingly get up, gather her things, and leave Katya in the pink light of the setting sun after intertwining their fingers for a short goodbye.

JInkx breaks the silence as they’re walking up the path back to the cottage.

“I guess there’s nothing like a summer romance to get the creativity going, huh?” 

Her tone is friendly and casual, but Trixie can feel her jaw clenching at  _ summer romance.  _ The end of the summer has been looming over her, getting closer and closer, no matter how much she’s been pushing it aside and trying to live in the moment. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply anything!” Jinkx quickly explains. “It’s just, you know, with her having to be in the water all the time… it will be too cold soon.” __

_ For you to be there _ , Trixie adds in her mind. She knows that, logically. That they get to spend time together is entirely dependent on the weather. And even if it stayed warm enough all year, they would still be stuck in that cove. She can’t ever move in with Katya, or bring her home to her parents for Christmas. Or get married. 

Trixie is spiraling by the time they make it to the front door, and Jinkx looks at her with concern.

“You’re going to be okay,” she says in a low voice, and puts one hand on Trixie’s arm. The attempt to comfort her makes Trixie want to shake her off. She knows this isn’t Jinkx’ fault. All she’s done is articulate what Trixie’s tried hard not to think about all this time.

Trixie just swallows and nods. She turns, already pulling the keys to the front door from her bag, and then disappears inside without saying goodbye to Jinkx. Dinner is just toast with the last of the cheese she has in the small fridge. She’s been neglecting getting groceries. Then, Trixie sits down to write, but the words on the screen in front of her don't reach her brain. 

She almost laughs when she realizes Katya isn’t  _ part of her world _ . She never can be. There’s a time limit on their relationship. Even if she comes back next summer, they’ll only get a few weeks, maybe months, together. And that’s assuming Katya wants her to come back. It sits heavily in Trixie's stomach how Katya sent her home earlier. She hasn’t said anything about Trixie leaving soon. Maybe she doesn’t mind. Maybe a few weeks of companionship were all she was looking for. Trixie slams her laptop shut, stands up from the desk and walks out the front door again. 

The moon is almost full and it lights up the beach so brightly that it's almost disorienting. Katya doesn't even need the flashlight Trixie found in a kitchen drawer and gave her for reading at night. She only looks up from her book when Trixie is almost in front of her, apparently completely engrossed in it. Her happy, surprised face turns into concern when she takes in Trixie's expression. 

"What's wrong?"

"What are we doing?" Trixie presses out. She's not crying, but she sounds like it.

"What?"

" _ Us.  _ What are we doing?" It's barely a clarification.

Katya closes the book, and stands. Her hands reach for Trixie, and when she doesn't react, Katya steps out of the water so she can intertwine their fingers.

"Trixie, tell me what's going on." Her voice is low and calm, and it's so at odds with Trixie's mood that it irritates her. She still pushes enough for Katya to walk backwards, so she's no longer apart from the ocean.

"I don't want to go," Trixie admits, barely managing to look at Katya's face.

"I don't want you to go either." Katya squeezes her hands.

"Really?" 

Katya's eyes go wide, and with her voice raised a little she says, "Of course! I want to be with you."

Trixie swallows. "So… if I come back next summer, you'll still be here?" 

"Of course I will," Katya says seriously. Her hands are warming up in Trixie's grasp.

"And will you still want me?" She needs Katya to say it.

"Of course I will. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. I wanted you in ways I didn't understand," she squeezes Trixie's hands again, "and in ways that were pretty obvious." She nods towards Trixie's chest, and Trixie can't help but snort.

Katya lets go of her hands and sits down in the sand, patting the space next to her. Trixie folds herself down, not caring that her dress is getting wet.

"We," Katya points with one clawed finger first to herself and then out at the ocean, "are not communal people. We don't live together in towns, and we don't have families. We find someone to mate and procreate with and then go our separate ways," she explains haltingly, and Trixie isn't sure if she's searching for the right words or if this is simply hard to talk about.

“I have watched humans and their strange attachments for a long time, and I never understood it.” She smiles. “Until I saw you.” Trixie doesn’t say anything, and Katya gets that it’s a prompt to talk more.

“All those gifts were intentional, you know. I didn’t just decide that would be a nice thing to do for you. It’s what my people do when they’ve found someone to mate with. You give them something, and if they give you something in return, you find a quiet place, and that’s it.”

Trixie sputters out a surprised laugh when she remembers that Katya came to talk to her the day after Trixie left the scrunchie for her. It’s still around Katya’s wrist.

“So you… what? Were trying to mate with me?”

Katya smiles and shakes her head.

“I never expected you to give me anything in return. I didn’t expect  _ anything _ from you. It was the only thing I knew how to do.” She looks down, and it takes Trixie a moment to realize she looks embarrassed. She doesn’t know what to say, so she just leans her head against Katya’s shoulder for a moment. Then she sits up very straight again.

“Have you ever… exchanged gifts before?” she asks, choosing her words carefully.

“I have. Not often; there aren't that many of us, and only ever with women, and not actually to procreate. But yes.”

Trixie nods. “Right.”

“Is that okay?” Katya asks haltingly, finally looking at Trixie again.

“Of course!” she shrieks, startling herself with the volume. “Of course it’s okay,” she adds more quietly. “I have too.”

Katya bumps her elbow into Trixie’s bicep and grins. “I know, I’ve read your books.”

“Oh, shut up!”

Katya just laughs, and Trixie smiles down into her lap.

"It's… kind of a relief," she says after a moment.

"Why?"

"I don't want-- the concept might be different for me than it is for you. I wouldn't want to start anything you don't fully understand," Trixie explains carefully. 

“Trixie,” is all Katya replies.

“What?”

“We have spent a lot of time talking about sex,” she explains with fond exasperation.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean you’ve had sex before or that you’re interested in having it now,” Trixie presses out in one breath.

With a smile, Katya takes Trixie’s hand in hers again. The cool skin against her own always makes Trixie feel calmer.

“I’m not a child, Trixie. You’re not taking advantage of me. It’s sweet that you’re so careful, but you have to trust me to tell you what I want and what I  _ don’t _ want.” She raises their joined hands to her mouth, and kisses Trixie’s knuckles.

“I  _ do _ trust you,” Trixie is quick to clarify.

As if to put that to the test, Katya gets up, and pulls Trixie up by her hand. She takes two steps back into the water, their arms stretching between them, and she looks at Trixie expectantly. She steps forward to meet Katya, getting a smile in response. Katya tugs on her hand, and Trixie comes close enough that Katya can kiss her. She deepens it beyond the sweet, reassuring kiss Trixie had expected, and Trixie puts her arms around Katya’s neck as she relaxes into it. When they finally pull apart, Katya’s hands feel warm on her hips. They’ve been touching Trixie’s skin long enough to adjust.

“This is real.” Katya pulls her even closer.

Her focus is sharp on Trixie’s face, and Trixie scoffs a little, trying to hide her embarrassment that Katya has to go to such lengths to reassure her. 

“I know it is.”

Katya ignores her and carries on, “And it’s still going to be real when you go back to the city. I wish you didn’t have to, but it changes nothing. I’ll be here and I’ll wait for you.”

Trixie only nods, not trusting herself to speak without crying. She hadn’t expected Katya to be this gentle with her. In response to Trixie being so clearly overwhelmed, Katya takes her face in both hands. 

“I wasn’t sure if I could love the way you do, but I think this is it,” she says with her voice barely audible over the water.

Trixie flings herself at Katya in another kiss. It takes Katya by surprise, and she loses her balance. She wraps her arms around Trixie, so that she cushions their fall into the water. Trixie gasps into Katya’s mouth as her dress gets soaked, even though the water is barely colder than the night air. Her hands grasp at Katya, trying to pull her even closer, and Katya breaks their kiss, laughing breathlessly into Trixie’s neck.

“Slow down. I’ve got you.”

It has the opposite effect. Instead of calming down, Trixie scrambles off Katya and kneels on the ocean floor. She pushes her hands down into the water to find the hem of her dress, and pulls it up and over her head. As wet as it is, she can easily chuck it back onto the beach. Then she’s on Katya again. They have been only separated by her bikini before, but it feels different this time. There is intent behind it now.

“I love you,” she pants against Katya’s lips. “I know it’s too early to say in what way, but I do love you.” 

Katya grins in an expression of pure joy, and wraps both arms around her. Her lips meet Trixie's again, opening up underneath her. At the same time, Trixie feels herself being pulled under the surface. Just as she's about to run out of air, she feels oxygen pouring into her mouth from Katya. They emerge together a moment later, and Katya brushes the hair from Trixie's face with one hand.

"Sorry, I got carried away." She doesn't look sorry at all; she's still grinning. One of her legs pushes in between Trixie's and then wraps around her in a way that seems anatomically impossible.

Trixie doesn't mean to, but her hips push down. Katya's skin is so smooth where it slides against her thighs. She imagines what it will feel like without her bikini in the way, and she groans. She lets her hands roam, starting at Katya’s waist and sliding upwards. She doesn’t have time to hesitate; Katya immediately presses her chest up and sighs when Trixie cups her breasts. They fit perfectly into her palms, and when Trixie squeezes lightly, Katya makes that purring sound again that Trixie has heard before. 

After a moment, one of Katya’s hands wraps around Trixie’s wrist, and she pulls her hands down her body again. Trixie's palm slides over her stomach, down into the water, and she can feel the muscles twitch underneath her skin. Katya’s hand flutters away.

“Please.” She looks up at Trixie with her wide eyes shining silver in the moonlight. 

As soon as Trixie places her hand on Katya’s hip, she tilts her pelvis forward. For the first time, Trixie doesn’t look away. Katya appears to be entirely smooth at first glance, and Trixie has a brief moment of panic. She has experience with different kinds of genitals, and she’s always managed to figure out what to do with them. But what is she supposed to do when there’s nothing there? But then Katya moves, apparently searching friction against Trixie’s leg, and Trixie sees the gentle curves of her outer labia inwards to her center.

Trixie runs her index finger down that line, and Katya throws her head back into the water, bubbles rising from her mouth and nose. Trixie laughs softly, but keeps softly pressing inward. When her finger slips inside, Trixie gasps along with Katya. The feeling is familiar, and yet just different enough to remind Trixie that Katya isn’t human. She’s tight around Trixie’s finger, but then opens up easily once Trixie is past that barrier.

Katya pulls herself up enough that her face isn’t underwater anymore.

“You feel so hot,” she gasps.

“You don’t.”

They share a breathless giggle. The temperature is the biggest difference from any other pussy Trixie has ever touched. 

“Can I move?” she asks, and before she has a chance to do it, Katya’s hips push down, taking her deeper. Trixie watches for a moment how Katya fucks herself. Her eyes are almost closed, and her mouth is open, and she’s panting with every circle of her hips.

Trixie has to swallow first before she can ask “More?”

Katya nods frantically, but doesn’t stop moving. Trixie leans down over her and kisses her sweetly.

“Slow down. I’ve got you,” she repeats Katya’s words from earlier, and in response, Katya makes a noise like she’s choking. Eventually, her hips slow down, and Trixie pushes a second finger into her. Her whole body curls towards Trixie.

“Wow, you’re sensitive, hmm?” Trixie mutters, and Katya gurgles, apparently beyond the ability to speak. “Do you want me to go slower?”

“Uh-uh,” Katya manages to press out, and Trixie rewards her by pulling her fingers out almost all the way and then pushing back in.

It’s endearing to see her become a puddle in Trixie’s hands. She’s writhing where she’s floating in the water. Katya has only ever used all that muscle to hold Trixie. Now she’s completely letting go, trusting Trixie to hold her. 

Trixie kisses her again, tasting salt, and then scrapes her teeth along her sharp jawline. She moves down her neck to her pronounced collarbone, and finally to one of her nipples. As she rolls it on her tongue, Katya slams down onto Trixie’s hand, and she twitches around the fingers inside her. Trixie isn’t sure if her orgasm lasts a long time, or if she’s just so transfixed by how Katya moves with it that it seems endless. When she’s finally done, she simply sinks down the short distance to the ocean floor, with Trixie’s fingers still inside her. 

Her eyes slowly blink open and find Trixie’s, and then bubbles rise up as she gurgles out a laugh. Trixie recognizes it from the expression on her face. She sits back on her heels and eases her hand out. Katya’s soft body becomes taut as she pushes herself up again.

“You humans are  _ wild _ ,” she laughs, and then kisses Trixie, draping herself over her folded up legs.

“Hm?”

“I thought your books were overstated, but you really are like that,” she explains, and Trixie laughs.

“Well, not everyone is as good as me.” Trixie wiggles her fingers, and Katya shrieks. She wraps her own fingers around Trixie’s and squeezes twice.

“So what’s different?” Trixie asks with genuine curiosity.

“We don’t do the…” Katya’s hands twirl through the air as she seems to search for the right words. Then she forms a circle with the thumb and index finger of one hand and plunges two fingers of the other hand into it repeatedly, her sharp nails jabbing into thin air. The familiar, juvenile gesture makes Trixie scream, and Katya’s hands flutter away, her laughing face coming close for another kiss. Afterwards she looks at Trixie with an unexpected shyness.

“Can I touch you now?”

Her sweetness makes Trixie nervous, even though she hasn’t been this whole time. She feels like a teenager as she opens the clasp of her bikini top, not meeting Katya’s eyes. She throws it towards the beach, not caring if it even lands on the sand. And then there’s nothing left to do but to face Katya.

“Oh,” she breathes with her gaze stuck on Trixie’s chest. 

Trixie can feel her face growing hot. She knows her tits are great, but they’ve never rendered anyone speechless like this. Plus, they’re not as great as they used to be ten years ago. Katya scoots closer on her knees, and then reaches out with both hands. Instead of going for Trixie’s breasts, she rests them on her shoulders and then strokes down until she can hold Trixie’s hands.

“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

It’s too much for Trixie, and she buries her face in Katya’s neck. The whole time that they’ve known each other, Katya has made Trixie feel desired. She never made Trixie doubt her affection. Nearly naked as she is now, she still feels ordinary next to Katya’s otherworldly form. 

“Trixie? Are you okay?” 

When Trixie sits back she can see worry all over Katya’s face. She nods and swallows down the tears rising in her throat. 

“You don’t see me the way I see myself,” she explains, and Katya just cocks her head to the side, looking at her with a puzzled expression. Trixie takes another deep breath as she thinks how to explain. “I have a lifetime of thinking I’m not that pretty or desirable or special behind me. The past few weeks haven’t changed that, but the way you talk to me and look at me,” she pauses and with a smile adds, “and touch me, lets me know that’s on me. I know you feel about me exactly the way you say you do. I never have to wonder about that. That’s what makes me so happy.”

Katya doesn’t reply, she just wraps her arms around Trixie and pulls her close. She holds her for a moment, then she moves them through the water and flips them so that Trixie is below her. She can feel the sand beneath her, and realizes Katya put them close enough to the beach that she can lie back without her head being in the water. There, at the edge of the ocean, Katya kisses her sweetly, and then smiles down at her with warm eyes.

“You’re the only human who has ever made me come out of the water. To me, you’re the best your species has to offer.” Her smile becomes a mischievous grin. “And I’m going to appreciate everything you have to offer.” Then she ducks down, pressing her face into the soft curves of Trixie’s breasts. Trixie laughs, and with one hand she cradles Katya’s head against her chest. 

Katya’s tongue on her skin lets her forget how wobbly she felt a moment ago. Together with the water that’s lapping at her body, she feels like she’s being caressed all over, and with a sigh she closes her eyes. Katya kisses down her torso, paying special attention to the rolls of her tummy before swiping her tongue along the waistband of her bikini bottoms. 

Trixie suddenly can’t get them off quickly enough. She almost collides with Katya’s face as she pushes her hips up, her fingers hooking unter the material and pushing it down with no regard for how hot it does or doesn’t look. Katya just sits back and watches her with an astonished little smile. It disappears when Trixie has slung her last piece of clothing away and her legs settle left and right of Katya again. She just stares down at her, and Trixie tells the first creeping traces of self-consciousness to get lost. She's sure she'd been staring at Katya uncomfortably long earlier too.

"You look like a flower," Katya says with quiet reverence in her voice, and Trixie has to fight the urge to hide her face in both hands. Instead, she reaches out for Katya, and she puts her cheek against it.

"You can't just say things like that," Trixie says softly. "How am I supposed to deal with you being so sweet all the time?"

"Sorry, I'll stop," Katya assures her with a glint in her eyes that tells Trixie she's not serious. 

She still makes a show of wailing  _ noooo _ , and Katya laughs.

"I'm not always sweet," she then points out.

"Is that so?" Trixie can't help the grin spreading on her face at the lead up to an obvious invitation. She writes romance novels; she's read and written this dialogue countless times before.

"Mh-hmm." Katya places both hands on Trixie's thighs and starts sliding them upwards.

"Prove it," Trixie finishes their script, and bites her lip

Katya gently places her palm over Trixie, and she rocks up against it. She doesn’t just meet Katya’s hand rhythmically, the water splashes against her too. After Katya has watched her with heavy eyes for a while, she ducks down. Her teeth glint in the moonlight, and Trixie flinches without meaning to. Katya catches it, of course she does, and her eyes meet Trixie’s as her face disappears in the water and she presses a gentle kiss to the inside of Trixie’s knee. She kisses up the delicate skin at the inside of her thigh, and Trixie relaxes into it. When Katya has almost reached her center, she opens her mouth wider, and Trixie feels the points of her teeth pressing into her soft flesh. Katya doesn’t close her jaws around Trixie. It’s a reminder that she  _ could _ , but she doesn’t want to.

Katya lets go and emerges from the water.

“My teeth don’t hurt me and they won’t hurt you.” Her voice is low and rumbling, like a wave washing over Trixie, and in a moment of clarity she understands where the myths of sirens come from. Trixie couldn’t resist either.

“I trust you,” she pants, and Katya smiles at her before diving under again, this time slotting her mouth over Trixie’s pussy right away.

The way Katya touches her is careful, but not scared. Her tongue moves over Trixie’s hot skin with intent. She’s only slightly warmer than the water that’s moving around them. Trixie stares down between her legs. Only lit by the moon, Katya’s skin is barely visible under the surface, but bubbles rise up from where she laps at Trixie. 

Katya’s tongue pushes into her, and Trixie’s hands dig into the sand. The feeling of the grains under her fingernails keeps her grounded. If not for that, she’s sure she would simply dissolve, and the waves would carry away what was left of her.

Then Katya makes that purring noise again, and Trixie can feel it vibrating through her, making her shout unintelligible noises into the night sky. More bubbles rise from Katya’s mouth, and Trixie realizes she’s laughing. She roughly shoves at Katya’s shoulder, not moving her even a millimeter, but her own head tips back and her eyes close as she laughs breathlessly.

Trixie had thought before that Katya’s tongue looked longer than what she’s used to, but now she gets to feel all of it. Katya is fucking her with more enthusiasm than finesse, but Trixie is so far gone that it doesn’t matter. 

She opens her eyes, and the sky is endless and deep blue above her. As Trixie looks down, it melts into the ocean, all the twin stars and the bright moon on its surface moving with the current. Katya fits into all of it seamlessly, and in this moment Trixie feels like she does too, in a way she can’t remember ever feeling before. It feels like coming home. It feels like finding faith.

Through the water she finds Katya’s eyes, and reaches out one hand. Katya quickly slots hers into it, intertwining their fingers, clutching at each other like they’re drowning when they’re really suspended in the comforting embrace of the ocean.

Trixie gets shocked back into her mind and body when Katya puts her other hand on Trixie above her mouth. She finds her clit with slick fingers, and moves them slowly, watching Trixie’s reaction. 

“Yes,” she gasps when Katya puts the right amount of pressure on her. Her fingers speed up, and so does the water splashing against Trixie’s skin along with whimpers that fall from her open lips. She comes with a shudder that doesn’t seem to want to stop. By the time it does, Katya’s face is above her, and she cups Trixie’s cheek before leaning in to kiss her.

“Was that good?” Katya asks as Trixie is still catching her breath, and she laughs, but pulls Katya to her chest.

“I had some kind of transcendental experience, and briefly thought you were a deity.”

“I don’t know what that means,” Katya admits in a small voice.

“I don’t either,” Trixie giggles, “but yeah, it was really fucking good.”

When she shivers a little, Katya first leads her deeper into the water to wash all the sand out of her hair. Then they retreat to their alcove, where Trixie pulls the towels down that they use for shade during the day to first dry herself off and then wrap herself up tightly. They lie down parallel to the water so that Trixie can stay dry and Katya has half of her body in the water.

They’re shoulder to shoulder, watching the night sky in silence, for much longer than is usual for them. Then Katya turns her head and quietly waits for Trixie to do the same. When she does, Katya squeezes her hand.

“When the summer is over, I’m going south.”

“What?” Trixie blinks in confusion. 

“I can’t help it, it’s like having to be in water all the time. I go where it’s warmer until I know it’s time to come home again,” Katya explains quietly.

Trixie turns onto her side completely. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“One of us leaving was hard enough. I didn’t want you to worry about this too.”

Trixie hums and raises Katya’s hand to her mouth, kissing first the knuckles and the back of it, and then unfolding it and kissing the fingertips and the center of her palm.

“I’ll come back for you if you come back for me?” she asks quietly.

“I will,” Katya promises with a smile. 

Trixie scoots closer to her so she can rest her head on Katya’s shoulder. This is as close as they’ll ever get to vows. She’ll take it.

“So. You migrate. Like a trout,” Trixie breaks the silence, and then shrieks as Katya gasps in offence.

“I’m not a fish! And if I was, you could at least pick a better one. Like tuna.”

Trixie snorts. “Right, wouldn’t wanna be a  _ common _ fish.”

“It doesn’t matter because I’m not a fish. I can breathe air, in case you forgot.” Katya still sounds a little indignant, but she has one arm slung over Trixie’s middle and is stroking her waist through the towel.

“Sure, an amphibian then, like a frog. That would explain the tongue, too.”

This time it’s Katya who screeches with laughter.

Trixie hasn’t slept under the stars since she was a kid, when she had camped out with blankets in her grandparents’ garden, only to be surprised by heavy rain just after she had fallen asleep. This time there are no surprises, just her, Katya, and the ocean.

*

The familiar shape in the distance that Trixie had been waiting for finally appears, and she runs, not walks, the last bit of the way to the shore. Somewhere on the way she loses her shoes and pulls her dress over her head, dropping it in the sand carelessly.

The water is icy on her toes when she steps in -- it's only April -- but she doesn't stop. Neither does Katya. Trixie runs until she's moving too slowly through the water and starts to swim instead, always towards where Katya is heading for her. When they finally meet, Katya easily scoops her up, and Trixie slings her legs around her waist as she kisses her.

"Took you long enough."

“Excuse me?” Katya laughs against her mouth. “That’s no way to greet your migrating girlfriend.” Katya carries her back to shore where Trixie pulls her dress back on with her fingers shaking from the cold. It barely helps on top of her wet bikini but she didn’t think to bring a towel. She got too excited.

Katya sends her back to the cottage to get changed and bring a blanket, and Trixie races back only a few minutes later with a basket she had prepared for this occasion. It holds a change of clothes, water and snacks, as well as an advance copy of her new book with a dedication to  _ Katya, the weirdest and best woman I’ve ever met _ .

She’s only been permanently back at the cottage for a few weeks. Her apartment in New York is empty; most of her stuff didn’t make it out here. Trixie gave it away to the few friends she has in the city and donated what they didn’t want. 

Jinkx’s aunt was happy to get rid of the cottage, and she let Trixie have it for probably a fraction of what it’s worth. The bargain plus her previously ascetic lifestyle left her with enough money to fix it up a little. Now Trixie won’t be freezing to death in the winter and none of the faucets leak anymore. She even has an official address. As a moving gift Jinkx gave her a mailbox with a mermaid painted on, winding herself around Trixie’s last name. 

Katya being gone during the winter months is not reason enough for Trixie to stay in the city for half the year. She’s happier alone out here, knowing Katya will come back to her. 

Not that life in a small town allows for much time alone. She’s had people coming by with all kinds of food to introduce themselves, and to collect more gossip for the rest of town. The only way to escape it is to leave her cottage voluntarily. She spends a lot of time with Jinkx and her friend Dela. When she needs a little less whimsy, Trixie pops into town and chats with Bob, whose family has owned the market for generations. Being friendly with the locals protects her from the worst apprehension that outsiders are usually met with. 

Her life hasn’t become more quiet, but when Trixie goes to bed at night, with the little statue of Katya watching over her, she’s tired from moving around in the fresh air all day. It comes with a satisfaction she hadn’t known she’d been missing before.

Trixie still had counted down the days on the calendar until Katya might be back, not knowing when exactly that would be. But the first day of spring had made her giddy like a child. Now she’s finally here, and the summer stretches out endlessly in front of them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading; I'd love to hear what you thought! I adore comments and you can also find me on tumblr at [connyhascontrol](https://connyhascontrol.tumblr.com/).


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